Give me a challenge
by Kascaboota
Summary: Series of drabbles based on prompts and challenges from readers. Start requesting some, it won't get interesting until you do! Read first chappy for explanation, skip that to go straight to the drabbles.
1. The boring explanation chapter

Give me a challenge.

Series of TWEWY drabbles. While I will use some one word/phrase/picture prompts, I want you to PM me challenges (or just leave them in a review, if that's easier) for most of the drabbles. It can be anything from crack fics to exploration of complex character relationships(preffered) to writing based off of songs.

All genres/ratings accepted, but I won't accept pure smut. Character relationships and situations leading to lemons/limes, sure, but not just smut.

Also, I probably won't write fluff for the neutral pairings, unless you structure it yourself, as **I want to keep these drabbles in character**.

Pairings I like:

_Neku/Shiki_

_Joshua/Rhyme_

_Uzuki/Kariya_

Neutral/tolerable pairings:

_Konishi/Megumi_

_Konishi/Sho_

_Neku/Eri_

_Neku/Joshua_

_Neku/Beat_

_Neku/Rhyme_

_Joshua/Shiki_

_Joshua/Eri_

_Sota/Nao_

_OC pairings_

_One-sided pairings_

Pairings that I don't want to write about even in a cracky sense:

_Main cast/Mr. Hanekoma (Sorry. Might consider him with an OC or reaper, but not with Neku/ any of his partners.)_

_Main cast/Reapers (May make exceptions for Joshua)_

_Beat/Rhyme(Not even crack, I think the pairing is just gross.)_

_Noise pairings_

_Threesomes_

It's possible that I missed some, but just assume that others are strange pairings to me and would probably come out as a cracky fic.

Again, I'm more likely to complete requests that focus on character relationships rather than smut/fluff/crack fics.

You can also request stories longer than drabbles, if you want to collab on it a bit.

**tl;dr: Give me something challenging to write about TWEWY, preferably focusing on complex character relationships not analyzed in the game. Refer to pairings lists before requesting. Will not accept pure smut requests. **


	2. One Word Prompt: Flowers

There isn't a soul that wants to believe that dreadful things happen to loved ones. But the human body cannot sustain life forever; no one is safe from that fact. It was difficult to ignore a twinge of panic when my son's curfew came and went without any signs of him. I called his cell and got an answer on the second ring.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. I'm almost there, passing through Dogenzaka as we speak. I won't be long, no more than 10 minutes. Swear." Panic was in his voice. Was he panting a bit?

"….. I'll talk to you when you get here." _Probably worried about the consequences, rather than respect, judging by his tone. Just like him. _That's what I told myself, anyways.

"Okay. I'm sorry." He hung up.

I reclined in my chair and closed my eyes, somewhat relieved. I would scold the boy when he got home- no point in doing it on the phone only to have to repeat myself. I was truly tired. Because of that, I grudgingly allowed myself to drift into the hazy realm between awareness and dreams. A knock on the door would wake me, I figured. My son wouldn't even know.

Unfortunately, it was not my son at the door, and he would indeed never know that I dozed off. And he would never come home again. No, he wouldn't know that I slipped into a peaceful slumber while he slipped to the ground below him in Dogenzaka. He would never know the words I planned to scold him with, or that I got home late from work that day, or about the funny prank my boss pulled on a coworker earlier. He would never know that his mother was catching a cold or that his great aunt was moving closer to us or that the TV remote needed new batteries. He wouldn't know a lot of things, because he died that day. It was violent and at the hands of a stranger. Some kid found his body soon after his death and alerted the authorities.

…

There are a lot of things _I'll_ never know, too.

More things than I _do_ know, really. The thing I wonder the most is if he truly loved me as a father the way I loved him as a son. We were never very close, but I always wanted the best for him regardless. Even if it seemed to him like I didn't care, in reality, I thought of him more often than I thought of myself. I gave him space when he asked for it and nudged him along the path I thought he could prosper from whenever he took a turn for the worse. I used gentle but strict discipline and prayed constantly for him to truly find success in a compromised way that we could _both_ take pride in.

But he found a bullet instead. Or rather, it found him. God, it found him and it tore him apart and left his body bleeding in an alley as his soul drifted on. I still have not found even a hint of peace in the killer being caught; he left no evidence and unless guilt becomes unbearable, killers never confess. My son sent a text message to a classmate saying he thought a guy in black was following him. And that he didn't want to worry his family by mentioning it. That was all we could find.

Regardless of the tragedy, his wake was a beautiful thing. Hundreds of flowers sat in rows, a portrait of his smile standing proudly for all to see, accompanied by a towering spirit tablet. The rare sweet smile there for me to see while I lamented with my wife and fought not to crush his incense in trembling, grieving fingers. He was never happy enough, and now… he never would be.

The priest uttered verbatim from the sutra, but the words did not truly reach my ears. All I could hear was gunshots, tears and my son's voice. All I could see was the burning colors of a thousand petals before me, framing tragedy with a sight pleasing to the eye. But they did nothing for my heart.

He was cremated a week ago today, and he continues to receive devoted prayer from my wife and I. My son would never know trite things about my day, work, or my opinion on his tardiness. But damn it, even if it took death for him to see it, my son would know that his father always cared. He would find peace among the wilted flowers of his altar and by the time the last candle burns out, I'll let go of Neku Sakuraba… and his soul will know bliss.


	3. Listen Up Falling In Reverse

AN: There be spoilers up ahead! Avert your eyes if you haven't finished the game. (And go finish it right now because it's awesome.)

Alright, the request was to write a drabble based on "Listen Up" by Falling In Reverse. There weren't any other details or plot points so I wrote in Neku's POV for the scene where Joshua shoots Neku for the second time, at the end of the game. If this isn't what you were looking for in your request(a friendly/hateful/sexual/etc relationship wasn't specified so it very well may not be) feel free to re-request in moar detail. :3

* * *

This isn't happening. I don't want to play another Game. Not like this. Please…

_10…_

Why, Joshua? You know that I can't do it. That it's too much. My fingers are numb and tears are falling from my face and you're still cocking that gun.

_9..._

I died almost a month ago

_8…_

and I've done everything it took to get to where I'm standing right now. To win your stupid Game 3 times in a row.

_7…_

I've had everything that matters taken from me. My life, my memories, my friends

_6…_

and now our friendship, too? Unforgivable, Joshua. I hate you.

_5…_

Why are you smirking like that? I have the gun pointed to you. My safety is off. I'm going to shoot, I'm going to save Shibuya even if it means taking your life. I'm going to save my other friends. You're… you're not my friend now, you know. Not anymore. You're just the Composer, the one who took everything.

_4…_

… But I can't do it, can I? I... I guess that everything I've done and everything I went through and _all the times I tried to trust people_

_3…_

were for _nothing_.

_2…_

You knew I couldn't. You knew I'd lower the gun. That I'd give in. Please don't betray my trust again… Shibuya doesn't need to be destroyed. It's not what I thought it was… what you think it is… it's beautiful, it really is. Shibuya is like life. Shibuya _is _life. Please…

Flashes of the first time you shot me are running through my mind. You wore the same expression.

Even if I'm Erased, Shibuya needs to stay. For my partners. My friends. My family. Everyone I didn't care about enough when I was alive. Even if they completely forget me, they don't deserve to disappear.

_1…_

You're really going to do it, aren't you?

I'm sorry, everyone… it's my fault you won't get a second chance. Goodbye, Shiki. Beat. Rhyme.

… And Joshua. The last thing I heard was a chuckle from him. And in my head:

_Oh Neku, you know damn well that this isn't the end. You've done so well… my dear little Proxy. Try not to forget about me, hee hee. _There was no sound after that and everything went black.

* * *

AN: If you were wondering, I used their friendship for as his entry fee because Neku doesn't relate to Shiki, Beat or Rhyme the same was as he does to Joshua. While this can be picked up from the dialogue of the game, I think that Joshua choosing Neku as his Proxy, aka a representation of himself, says enough.

It also works because Players that lose don't get their entry fees back and the game's ending hints a bit at Neku talking to Joshua, and in the secret ending (spoilers)

Joshua is seen looking rather serious, if not upset/irked. If you want to speculate, this could be because he was listening to Neku but is unable to meet up with him because their friendship was a lost entry fee.

I don't _really_ think that that was his entry fee, but hey... it's fanfiction, no? :P


	4. AN computer issues

**This is an AN, not an update. Sorry.**

Okay… Well my computer is rebelling, and badly. It took literally an hour to boot it up. I was very surprised when it did, really. It's running okay for now, but I'm fairly sure it'll give me a hard time eventually. I'm running vista and my brother decided to give the computer a hard shutdown during a system recovery because he got impatient. Ack. Big no-no. :/ If my computer-savvy friend gives me the okay, I'll run a recovery disk. But it doesn't look great. I think there are several problems to be dealt with.

I tried to send an update through my phone yesterday, but apparently I can't use the copy/paste on it. I can see the box and everything but when I try and paste, it just copies text on another part of the page. It doesn't register the box as somewhere you can type into. So just a fair warning, if my computer goes kaput, I probably won't be able to submit anything for a while. I have another computer sitting around but that old thing will take some tinkering with to be decent.

If you know a way to upload from an android phone, do tell. I can access reviews, PM's etc. Just can't seem to upload. And I don't like going on hiatus. .

I'll try and get an update in before I make any more moves for a repair. (Just don't feed me to wolf Noise if I don't.)


	5. One Word Prompt: Abstract

AN: Neku's POV, before the game.

* * *

Some people call it vandalism, some call it a gang sign, and some call it a social problem. I call it art, like any sensible guy.

CAT is art. His philosophy, his freedom, these murals he's put everywhere. That's what I want to be like one day. I don't like people, but I'd like to inspire them. Maybe if they would just shut up and listen for once to the things they say and start thinking about what they do, it'd be easier to open up to some of them. Maybe.

For now, it's just easier to block them out and avoid getting hurt again. All I really need at this point is CAT to inspire me. I see so much in his work. His life goes into every single tag. Every time I visit one of his murals, I can't help but run my fingers along the beautiful marks. Gaze up and smile as I find a new detail each time and wonder if he ever sneaks back and admires these things. Wonder if I've ever crossed paths with him or if I ever will.

Sometimes I dream about the things I see. I used to talk about it with my friend, before he died. He did the same. That's why I liked him so much. He was a lot like me. We agreed on almost everything, so naturally it was easier to talk.

It's kind of funny, really, but we always said that CAT's murals tell stories if you look close enough. Like modern hieroglyphs. Only there's no set translation. Every individual has to break the code themselves or sit there wondering just what the message is. Everyone has to imagine to understand his murals, to believe that something's there. I do.

And the things I see… they're beautiful.


End file.
